


love package: a delivery

by shinryujin



Category: Mamamoo, ONEUS (Band), ONEWE (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Siblings, Brother-Sister Relationships, Coming Out, Family, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Gay, Headcanon, Inspired by Real Events, M/M, Mentioned Lee Seoho - Freeform, Mentioned Son Dongju | Xion, Mentioned Son Dongmyeong, Moonbyul/Leedo/Cya are Siblings, Other, Relationship(s), Siblings, Song: Promise (ATEEZ)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:14:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29044440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinryujin/pseuds/shinryujin
Summary: Byulyi, the eldest of three, receives a package on her brother Geonhak's behalf. After pulling what would've been intended as a joke, Byulyi unearths something about her brother — a secret that he had been terrified of divulging for so long.
Relationships: Kim Geonhak | Leedo & Lee Giwook | Cya, Kim Geonhak | Leedo/Son Dongju | Xion, Moon Byulyi | Moonbyul & Kim Geonhak | Leedo, Moon Byulyi | Moonbyul & Kim Geonhak | Leedo & Lee Giwook | Cya, Moon Byulyi | Moonbyul & Lee Giwook | Cya
Comments: 8
Kudos: 41





	love package: a delivery

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by Moonbyul receiving a gift sent to RBW (their company) by a fan (a ToMoon), addressed to Geonhak (which actually [happened](https://twitter.com/ddongbyullie/status/1347041455781552131))! Also inspired by this headcanon I had of Moonbyul, Geonhak, and Giwook being siblings (rapline, chick/hamster, songwriter/producers? Gotta love 'em).
> 
> Special thanks to my good friend and wife, [Donut](https://twitter.com/Byuls_Corgi), for beta-reading for me!

Byulyi kept her eyes on the road as she drove home from gym with her younger brother riding shotgun. Her younger brother, Geonhak, had been an athlete at an early age, eventually becoming a gym buff. Ever since Byulyi started going to the gym, the pair made it a weekly tradition to go together every Saturday. Geonhak used to claim he just needed someone to drive him there but Byulyi knew her brother enjoyed her company just the same, even if he would never admit it.

Though he was five years younger, Geonhak was bigger, wider, and more angular than his sister. His face — cheekbones, jawbones, and chin — was chiseled to the gods. His shoulders were broader, bulkier, and more squared. His eyes were smaller, sharper, and almost looking mono-lidded. Relatives would often claim that he resembled his father the most.

In comparison, Byulyi’s features were a little fuller and softer, more feminine. Her arms were leaner and thinner, but more muscular now after months of continuous and consistent gymming. Her eyes were deeper and rounder than Geonhak’s, but they looked almost just as small without makeup. Her movements were a good mix of sharp and graceful, and Byulyi herself had an androgynous air to her.

Even so, there was no doubt that the two were siblings. People seeing them for the first time were under the impression that the siblings looked like fallen angels or deities. They had similar features, too — the same straight eyebrows; the same high, pointed nose; the same sharp chin; the same small but adequately plump lips; the same fair, porcelain skin. Heck, even the same low-pitched speaking voice.

That particular Saturday, Byulyi had her shoulder-length hair kempt in a low ponytail, beads of sweat still sliding down the side of her face and her nose. It had been quite humid the past few days, and their trip to the gym definitely did not help the case. Byulyi’s muscle shirt clung to the skin of her chest and back, films of sweat acting like an adhesive. She passed her brother the aux cord with her free hand as the latter had asked.

Geonhak’s sweaty hair matted his forehead under his baseball cap that he’d worn backwards on purpose. He took the cord from his sister and plugged it into his phone. “You think mom and dad are home already?” he asked, pressing the play button on his favourite on-the-road playlist. A song called Promise by ATEEZ began to play, the music filling what had previously been a quiet atmosphere.

Byulyi knew that her brother was already twenty-three, way past the age of puberty, yet it sometimes still caught her off-guard how low his voice actually was. It went as deep as a well, and sounded as husky as shoveling gravel. “Nah,” she replied, scrunching her nose, whisker dimples marking her cheeks. “Why?” Their parents had been gone for about a week to visit their grandparents in the countryside. They were supposed to come home that day, but Byulyi didn’t expect them to be back until 10 in the evening.

“No reason.”

Just like that, their conversation ended and the two sat in silence on the way home. Byul tapped the steering wheel softly and nodded along to the beat. Her music taste wasn’t entirely similar to her brother’s, but she liked hearing new songs from him just the same. She glanced to the side, catching a glimpse of her brother who was tapping his foot lightly against the carpeted floor while scrolling through his phone. She shifted her gaze back onto the road, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Even without speaking, she and Geonhak still seemed to be communicating and interacting in their own way, jamming to music together in the car. Byulyi appreciated that about their relationship.

* * *

Upon arriving home, the garage had been completely empty. The siblings exchanged a knowing look. _See, told you they’re not here_ , Byul seemed to say. _You were right_ , Geonhak seemed to respond. Faint bass guitar sounds and reverb were unmistakably audible from their _maknae_ ’s room from an open window on the second floor; he was probably working on another song. Surprisingly, he stayed in his room for a change, instead of cooping himself up in the studio in the attic as he usually did.

After bathing and getting dressed in home clothes, Byulyi thought of fixing herself a light protein shake and her post-workout _kimbap_. All of a sudden, she heard the familiar buzzing of their doorbell. She assumed that her brothers had no plans on climbing down the stairs just to check their front door surveillance system, so she did it herself. At the front of their gate was a middle-aged man, somewhere in his 30s, wearing a delivery service uniform and carrying a box.

“Oh, good afternoon,” Byulyi greeted through the surveillance system.

“Good afternoon, Ma’am. Package delivery for… Geonhak?” the delivery man said, turning the box on its side to read the name of the addressee.

“Ah, that’s my brother. Who’s it from?”

The delivery man checked the label again. Byulyi saw his eyebrows meet in the middle, a crease forming between them. “It doesn’t say here, Ma’am. There’s only an address,” he replied.

Huh, how peculiar. Geonhak usually announced in the family group chat (or whenever convenient, really) if he were expecting online purchases to arrive. Byulyi tried to split her brain open, trying to recall whether or not Geonhak had mentioned anything. However, as far as her memory served her, there had been none. Her brother rarely forgot stuff like this, but it may be one of the few times that he did. “I see. Well, I don’t think he can receive it right now. May I?”

“Sure, Ma’am, no problem. It’s already been paid by the sender so you only need to sign some confirmation documents.”

Byulyi went out in her sweatpants and signed documents as the delivery man instructed. She wrote her name and signed within the box labeled ‘ _Received by,’_ after which, the delivery man seemed satisfied and concluded the transaction. Inspecting the box, Byulyi estimated it to be about as long as her torso, as wide as her forearm, and as tall as her head. She carried the box with one arm, feeling its weight in her sore, tired muscles. Normally, it wouldn’t have given her a difficult time, but her upper arm workout that afternoon was _not_ a joke. She assumed that Geonhak must’ve bought a couple of weights again. _As if the brat didn’t have enough already,_ she thought.

Just as Byulyi entered the house, Geonhak was already on his way down from his bedroom. His hair fell flat and still in damp clumps — free of styling products, the way he usually wore his hair at home. “Someone ring the bell? Who was that?” he asked.

“A delivery man,” replied Byul nonchalantly. A thought popped in her playful mind and with a straight, expressionless face, she joked, “I think your boyfriend sent you a package.”

Geonhak’s eyes landed on the package his sister was clutching by her side. “Ah, thanks, I was waiting for that,” he said, approaching his sister to get the box from her.

However, Byul remained standing still. She uttered not a word and blinked, obviously a little taken aback at how seriously her brother responded to her bluff. She blinked again, wondering whether the 23-year-old said what he said intentionally or if he just hadn’t noticed himself slip. Geonhak simply blinked back at her, now confused. He knitted his brows together, uncertain why his sister was acting weird, just staring at him like she was analyzing him in her head. The atmosphere was so quiet that anyone would hear a needle drop.

“What?” the younger finally asked to break the awkward tension, quirking a brow.

“So you _do_? You have a boyfriend?’

The boy let out a nervous laugh, feeling heat spread across his face. He felt his heart lurch to the pits of his stomach. “I… no. When did I say that? I never said that,” he almost stuttered. His eyes darted around, avoiding his sister’s, chuckling in an attempt to mask his nervousness. He was terrible at coming off as confident in situations like these where he would be caught off-guard. Never in his life did he think he would slip up as badly as he did just then. Fear crept underneath his skin as he realized that he had potentially put himself — and someone he loved — at risk.

Seeing how flustered her brother was, Byulyi burst out laughing. Though her brother’s face stayed the same pale colour, the tips of his ears were tinged red — this was a fact. Byulyi had witnessed it all her life. If this had been a game of poker, pinkish-red, blood-rushed ears would be Geonhak’s “tell.” She laughed so hard she almost dropped the package. “Well, I was just joking when I said it,” she said, transferring the box to the other arm, “but you kinda confirmed it just now, Hak.”

If it were possible, Geonhak’s ears became redder. The slight panic in his voice was noticeable. “What? No I-”

“ _Hak_ ,” the older called firmly and sharply. Her soothing, velvety voice smoothed out the edge in her manner. Momentarily, her brother snapped out of the panic, allowing him to refocus on her. In a softer, gentler tone now, Byulyi called again, “Geonhakie. It’s okay. Really. It’s okay.” She said the last _‘it’s okay’_ for good measure and hoped that it was enough to convince him.

Geonhak didn’t say anything. He _couldn’t_ say anything. He felt frozen for a bit, entire body stiffening. His mouth felt full of sand, all the way down to his throat. At once, he exhaled, releasing the pent up tension between his shoulder blades and in his nape. _It’s okay_ — these were only two simple words but the way his _noona_ said them made him feel secure and safe, like he could let his guard down and not be ripped apart within a second. Tears started to burn his eyes but he kept them down.

“It’s okay,” the older repeated. “I’ve kind of had a feeling for a while now. I just didn’t want to keep assuming and would rather hear it come from you.” Her smile was warm and comforting, almost apologetic for pulling the rug underneath him like that. “But you don’t have to tell me anything if you aren’t ready, yeah? Or if I crossed a line and was totally wrong about my assumptions, you can let me know.” Byulyi smiled again and handed him the box, patting him softly on the shoulder as if to end the conversation on a lighter note. She walked past him, moving towards the kitchen, but before she could get too far, she heard Geonhak call for her.

“ _Noona_.” His voice was a bit higher than it usually was, the gravel disappearing. It was softer and more hushed, too, like he was afraid that someone might be eavesdropping. He had never heard himself speak so small, and neither did his sister.

“Hm?”

He took a deep breath, feeling exposed like an open wound in air. “I… yeah. Yeah, I do,” he exhaled. He seemed to struggle finding the right words, and even if he did, he couldn’t organize them or structure them well in his head. It felt like picking up pieces of Lego blocks, trying to fit them together, only for the pieces to fall apart because they didn’t match.

_“I have a boyfriend.” “I’m in a relationship with a boy.” “I’m in love with a boy.”_ These were simple, coherent, easy-to-form sentences that he could’ve said in place, and yet, none of them felt right. None of them held enough weight or enough sincerity to paint the entirety of his truth. Additionally, Geonhak felt that saying the words out loud, especially in front of someone he wasn’t used to showing vulnerability to, would make his truth more _real_ than anything else in the world. That scared him.

He was afraid but he hoped that his piercing gaze got through to Byulyi, that it communicated enough of the sincerity and the rawness in his truth without needing to speak. His shoulders slumped and the dam in his eyes finally broke, making the tears more difficult to keep at bay. He turned away, his back facing Byul, and quickly wiped the rivulets sliding down his cheeks. “Just don’t tell mom and dad, please. I’m not ready to tell them.”

“Of course.” Byul wanted to reach out to comfort her brother but decided against it. She worried about suffocating him or making him feel coddled. “Does anyone else know about it?”

“Yeah, a few of my friends. A few of his friends. Giwook.”

At the mention of their _maknae_ ’s name, the pair heard small, careful footsteps coming from the staircase. As if on cue, Giwook appeared behind them. Giwook was three years younger than Geonhak, and a little shorter, too. Just like his older siblings, he had the same trademark porcelain skin, the same straight eyebrows, the same sloped nose, the same face shape, the same high cheekbones, and the same pointed chin. Maybe even the same interest for rhythm and poetry, and the same brand of mischief.

His eyes were a tad rounder and bigger than Geonhak’s but not as much as Byulyi’s. One of them had a crease more prominent than the other, which made him look like he inherited an eye from each of his siblings. His cheeks, though higher and more angular like his brother’s, were just as full and round as his sister’s. This oftentimes led to playful banter with her over which of them was truly deserving of the title ‘Hamster Overlord.’ Meanwhile, he loved roughhousing with his brother, watching stupid cartoons together, and beating him at Mario Kart; he’d even ask Geonhak to voice over his song demos.

Giwook grew out his hair, a little long at the back and a full fringe in front, like a mullet. He liked styling his hair differently every other day, if he didn’t feel like just letting it down. Sometimes, he would braid the sides and tie it into a ponytail. Other days, he would wear a thick headband, the stretchable kind that covered his forehead.

That day in particular, though, he decided to wear his half-cyan-half-platinum hair in tiny pigtails. They looked more like antennas, the way they poked out of the top of his head, leaving the rest of his hair naturally loose. His nails were freshly painted in different holographic colours, and even those changed every other week depending on his preference. Giwook almost looked like he was taken straight out of a colouring book. Nothing about him was dull or basic in the slightest.

The youngest scanned the situation, confused as to why his name was mentioned and why his siblings were staring at him like they had just summoned a demon. “What?”

“Nothing, really. It’s just…” The eldest’s eyes flitted from one brother to another before fixing them on Giwook. “You knew about… _this?_ ” She telepathically sent what she meant by ‘ _this_ ’ to Giwook, quirking a brow in Geonhak’s direction.

“Geonhak and Dongju?” Giwook’s tone suggested that it had been a rhetorical question, but his eyes widened as if asking for confirmation. His sister nodded immediately, and it led him to respond, “Yeah. For quite a while now, too.”

Byulyi blinked and pretended to be offended by what she just heard. “Wow. _Wooow_ ,” she dramatically sucked in a breath in faux-disbelief, a hand to her chest. She rolled her eyes and glared at Geonhak. “I cannot believe you told this punk before _me_.”

Giwook scoffed. “ _Noona_ , I didn’t even hear it from him,” the youngest admitted, his adorable face contorting in disdain as though he discovered his brother’s secret without his permission. “The thing is, Ju’s twin brother is one of my closest friends from band, so I’ve known Ju for a while now, too, and I could’ve found out that way but I didn’t,” he explained, matter-of-factly. “See, I was walking to the convenience store for my shift after band practice. A few meters away, I saw two guys exit the store carrying plastic bags of food. Then I realized one of them was _hyung_ and the other one was Dongju.” He suddenly shook his head as he shuddered. “They paused for a bit when they turned to the intersecting street. And then I saw them — ”

“Hup, hup, hup! _Ohh-kay_ , I think we can stop right there. Please. Shut up. You didn’t see _shit_ ,” Geonhak panicked, covering his brother’s mouth and instantly making it his life’s mission not to get another word out of him. “I think we’ve heard enough. I think we’re done here.” He let out a shaky laugh, the one he usually did when he was feigning not being nervous or discomposed. But his ears were an unmistakable, unfaltering shade of red. Suddenly, Giwook bit the hand that was clamped over his mouth and it made Geonhak wince.

Byulyi busted a lung just hollering at Geonhak that it almost sent her keeling over. “Dongju, is that his name?” she asked, eyes still wet with tears. Without waiting for a response, she prepared to sing, clapping her hands to the beat and snickering the entire time. “Dongju and Geonhak sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g.”

“Ah, _noona_!” Geonhak yelled, his entire face turning red out of embarrassment, fists balling at his sides.

“When he realized that I saw him making _goo-goo eyes_ at Dongju,” added Giwook, half fueling the fire and half snitching on his brother, “he put me in a headlock and told me not to tell you or anyone, or else he’d take all my lunch money.” As he punctuated his sentence, he swiftly escaped to the kitchen, knowing full well that his _hyung_ was going to try to catch him.

Before Geonhak could do anything, his sister twisted his ear for bullying the youngest. “What? I was joking! Come on, do you really think I could do that to Giwook and mean it?”

After the teasing and the laughing died down, Byulyi patted Geonhak’s shoulder. “Anyway, don’t worry about it. Your secret’s safe with me. And with Giwook.” She turned in the direction of the kitchen just to shout, “If he ever tells mom and dad on you, _I’m_ withholding his allowance!”

“Ugh, I _get_ it!” the _maknae_ groaned back.

“Thank you for telling me,” said the eldest, looking into Geonhak with as much sincerity as her round eyes could carry. “This sounds gross but I love and accept you with my whole heart, you know that, right? I hope you feel more comfortable confiding these kinds of things in me.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad?”

Geonhak’s tears streaked his face again without him noticing them fall in the first place. But as he felt the hot tears line his cheeks, he felt like hiding. “This is embarrassing,” he said, tasting salt and wiping them away with the back of his hand. This was the first time his _noona_ had ever seen him this raw and open. But it felt healing, comforting even, knowing that he could put his trust in her. Knowing that he was accepted by someone he looked up to and was scared of letting down. “Do you really mean that?”

“Of course I do. Loving is nothing to be ashamed of. And besides, we’re family. We gotta look out for one another, right?” Byulyi smiled, patting her brother on the back as a gesture of comfort. Theirs was a family that was not used to a lot of physical affection nor sentimental words, but Byul felt that it was a situation that direly required various forms of love and support.

“I just hope that you get to share as much love as you receive, receive as much love as you can share, and then express it the way you want to.” Something caught in Byul’s throat. There was the familiar burn in her throat whenever she felt like crying. Seeing Geonhak cry triggered this kind of emotion in her and it was difficult to hold back. But in that moment, she wanted to be a stable pillar and prevented her voice from quavering. “Whether it’s men or women, they’re all the same people. They’re people you can love, and you can’t say one or the other is wrong. It’s love. People can love differently but it’s still the same love.”

As the two older siblings hugged it out, quite a bit awkwardly, they heard a shout from the dining room, right across the kitchen. “Are you guys eating or what?”

Apparently, as they bickered and shared their heartfelt talk, Giwook busied himself in the kitchen. He reheated all the leftovers — side dishes and rice included — and set up the table for dinner. Among their selection of main dishes were _sundubu-jjigae,_ beef ribs, _pajeon_ , and fried chicken seasoned to perfection. The thoughtful _maknae_ made sure not to forget his sister’s _kimbap_.

Over dinner, they talked about how Dongju and Geonhak met (“He watched one of our games and a friend of mine on the team, Seoho, introduced us. Seoho was a common friend; he knew Dongju since he was a kid”), how their relationship started (“He apparently had a crush on me even before we were introduced since he’d watch a couple of games for Seoho. He was really good at hiding it, though. Or maybe I was just thick-skulled. But we started seeing each other a lot, and then… I don’t know. I started… feeling things”), how they told their friends (“Technically, we didn’t tell them; they found out on their own, too”), and how their friends took the news (“Surprisingly well.”)

All the while, his _noona_ ’s words filled Geonhak’s head. _They’re all the same people. They’re people you can love._ He felt like floating. He had never felt lighter and more relieved than he did at that moment, surrounded by people who loved and accepted him and what he had with Dongju. And it was all that mattered for now. The world could change and flip upside down; the sun could rise from the west; the seasons could shuffle in order and melt away but at least one thing would remain the same — Geonhak will always be Geonhak, his siblings will always be his siblings, and he will always consider himself blessed to have them.

**Author's Note:**

> Perhaps Dongju's package wasn't the only love package delivered to Geonhak that day uwu
> 
> Also, if you're a fan of Mamamoo, you may have recognized a few of Moonbyul's dialogues. I quoted one of her Fancafe letters on Coming Out Day, specifically the one she wrote in [2017](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/EZAgFkVWkAA0MqZ?format=jpg&name=medium).
> 
> Anyway, if you liked this oneshot, please consider leaving a kudos and some nice comments! You can follow me on my [writing Twitter](https://twitter.com/dongkkaebi) as well for future content. Thank you!


End file.
